


Come Into My Hand

by misbegotten



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8357074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: James is handy, Robbie is a fixed point in his universe, and all ends well.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatPrecieux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/gifts).



> Title from William Blake's "The Invocation." For Pat, on the occasion of hir birthday, which is not yet. But as I will be traveling, I don't want to miss it.

James knows that Robbie has a -- well, he won't say fetish -- _preoccupation_ with James' hands. Robbie stares fixedly at them while James plays the guitar, perhaps imagining what exploits they have been up to in the night. Or perhaps James is projecting. But if the eyes are the windows to the soul, then James' hands are… well, the path to very good orgasms indeed as far as Robbie is concerned.

James can't be a poet-philosopher all the time.

At the moment, Robbie is lavishing attention on James' knuckles, dusting them with kisses. He's remarkably tender, James' old Geordie. James cannot help but wonder, sometimes, what young Robert was like. Young Robert, fondling with lasses –- and perhaps lads? James has never asked, but Robbie has been remarkably unfazed by most of James' more playful suggestions. And what was married Robbie like, lavishing his love on Val? James does not feel her ghost in their bed, for which he is grateful. Rather, he sends peaceful thoughts to her departed shade for helping to bring Robbie into his life, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

Would James have fancied young Robbie? Perhaps not. Robbie is the sum of his parts, like all men. And James loves Robbie's weariness as much as his tenderness; perhaps the two go hand in hand.

Hands again. Robbie is tickling now, licking James' fingers, releasing each one with a pop from his mouth that makes James' cock stir in anticipation. That sound, those lips, so familiar now. Once thought untouchable, once _known_ unthinkable. What a fool he'd been, not to take Robbie for his word. Love is love. "If it were my son it wouldn't matter,"' Robbie had said. Even then James had harboured carnal thoughts, disguised beneath snark and quips. Even then, Laura's frequent references to James as Robbie's other half had been unwitting barbs.

Love is love. And Robbie loves James' hands.

Tonight, perhaps, Robbie can do without. James extricates his palm from Robbie's grasp, though not without a parting kiss on the flesh, and jerks his chin at Robbie's underwear. Robbie is well ready for James' affection, lazy though his attention to James' hands has been. The proof is in how quickly Robbie sheds the underclothes, laying himself bare to James.

And there was a time when James thought Robbie shy.

Not now, though, when they know the other's bodies so well, the places that mark and the spots that leave each gasping for breath, overheated with anticipation. With a nudge, James guides Robbie to the mattress and straddles him, twining their legs in an awkward but familiar pattern. He hums lightly when Robbie smiles and lies back amongst the pillows, content to let James have his way.

Oh, James is looking forward to this.

With his tongue, he traces a careful path along Robbie's collarbone. Robbie murmurs something and runs his fingers through the short, clipped strands of hair at the back of James' head, up to the tuft where he's let it grow out a bit. Robbie's fingers massage his skull and James is tempted to stay where he is, just relaxing into Robbie's touch, but he has a goal in mind. He leans forward to kiss Robbie, tongues swiping, the fresh minty taste of Robbie's toothpaste lingering, and then follows with another quick peck before resuming his quest.

Robbie inhales abruptly as James licks his ribs, using his teeth to score the skin lightly and mark the outlines of the bones. Robbie is always complaining that James is too bony, too lanky and needs to fatten up a bit –- and quit smoking lad, he says in that endearing tone, as I'd like to keep you as long as possible. Robbie, on the other hand, is slightly soft in the middle but not self-conscious about it. Age cannot wither him, nor custom stale. 

Robbie's hands fall naturally onto James' shoulders as James moves down even further, and they grip tightly when James nudges Robbie's erect cock with his nose. James inhales, the fresh musk of Robbie's need heady, and then moves his hands beneath Robbie's hips, giving him wanted leverage and an anchor to keep those fingers from touching, caressing, pumping. Instead he uses the tip of his tongue to circle the head of Robbie's cock, and Robbie inhales again, a sharp, pleased sound falling from his lips.

"Christ," Robbie says thickly. "The things you do to me."

"The things I'm going to do to you," James replies with a sly smile, and then envelops Robbie's cock. Robbie's hips buck up involuntarily, but not so hard as to choke James. Instead, as Robbie screws his fingers into the bedclothes, James hollows his lips and sucks. James finds the adjective "hard" when referred to the male genitalia an amusing one; while the erect member is indeed stiff, it yields willingly to attention, weeps and cries for more. Robbie is scrambling for purchase on the mattress when James begins to move, bobbing his head up and down to take Robbie in, out, in, lick around, taste the tip of his cock, repeat.

Oh, Robbie is not going to last long and they both know it. "Touch me," Robbie demands, but James' hands remain firmly under Robbie's hips.

"I _am_ touching you," James chides him, and Robbie laughs shakily.

"You know what I mean, you bugger."

"Maybe later," James replies mildly, and returns to the task decidedly not at hand. He sets a rhythm, grazes Robbie's cock with just enough teeth to elicit a hiss before pursing his lips to provide a smooth, easy glide up and down Robbie's shaft. Robbie whimpers, and the sound goes straight to James' own cock, but there will be time for that later. Right now, he is wallowing in Robbie's strained breathing, the quivering of his thighs at James' ministrations, the small sounds of pleasure that Robbie makes every time James moves.

It is, perhaps embarrassingly for Robbie, a short time before he is coming, but James revels in the fact that he has managed to bring Robbie off with just his mouth. He relents as Robbie groans, freeing his hands from their anchored spot and twining his fingers through Robbie's, guiding him through the last of his orgasm. 

"Love, you're going to kill me someday," Robbie says, nearly breathless. He yanks James up to kiss him deeply.

"Won't that be an interesting way to go," James muses. He settles his head on Robbie's shoulder, lays a hand over Robbie's heart and feels the thump-dub of their passion starting to settle into a slower pace. Yes, he worries about Robbie's heart sometimes. It's big enough to love unreservedly and totally, but is as frail as any human organ.

James could not do without Robbie, after all.

"I'll try my best to keep you in one piece," he promises. Robbie's fingers trace a lazy circle on James' back as they sink into a doze, and James notes how easily he grew accustomed to Robbie's touch on his flesh, even in those first few days of snogging on Robbie's sofa or fumbling on the orthopedic mattress. Perhaps James has a _thing_ for Robbie's hands too. 

And all the rest of him, James thinks helplessly. His whole heart, resting in Robbie's hands. As it should be.


End file.
